Whispers in the dark
by ravenclawseekergirl638
Summary: This summer Harry faces a new enemy, one that he might not be able to defeat. Does he let it take over his life, or is he going to fight back? There is only one problem...    R/S mentor fic  Hiatus Being rewritten
1. Chapter 1 Ill

Whispers in the dark

Summary: This summer Harry faces a new enemy stronger than anything he has ever faced before and much harder to defeat. What's more he has new distractions, new problems and a barrel full of worries. Can he come to terms with who he is and can Remus and Sirius stay by his side as the going gets tough?

An: this is the first story that I have written in a long time. The course that I am taking at colledge seems to be eating up all my time and inspiration as well as the various medical conditions that have taking up alot of my time. I hope that you enjoy the story and also that you be kind to me. I have tried to portray both the self harm and the mental disorder used in the story as truthfully as i can, and in as realistic a way as i can. Eventually i hope to start writing again for my other stories such a Vanyali Knurla but i'll just have to see what happens.

Warnings: contains mentions of neglect and child abuse, m/m pairings, self harm and mental disorders. (May change) Also this story is unlikely to be updated very often due to all my commitments and issues.

Harry stood, much as they had left him some hours before, staring out of the grimy bedroom window out into the street below. Since they had gone he had not only magically locked the door, but he had pushed the dusty dark wood chest of drawers in front of it to. It would not do for someone to come unexpectedly, especially since they worried about him so much already. Turning slowly from the bleak view he padded softly towards his bed before reaching under it with a calmness that frankly scared him, knowing what he was about to do. Strangely the thought also soothed the bubbling emotions of the last year. Gently, almost reverently he pulled out the battered shoe box, bringing it into the dim light, before slowly opening it to reveal its contents. It had taken him a great deal of time to collect them without being found out by the Dursley's. Sitting down on the lumpy mattress covered in a red and gold quit cover, he lifted the smallest of the glinting objects from its home and held it in his hand. This was really going to happen and despite his mind telling him to stop, that there must be another way. His body said that it had to happen. It was the only way. He still couldn't tell anyone, what would they think of him, after all. That he had finally gone as nutty as a squirrel that's what they would think. How could he break it to them that Harry Potter, The-boy-who=lived spent the majority of his time, when not with others talking to people who weren't there. Couldn't possibly be there but yet they were for him. With the knife in his hand they had grown quieter and quieter, paler and paler until they had disappeared entirely. Obviously they didn't want to watch the show, Harry smiled. The first genuine smile he had given in just over a year.

That last happy occasion had soon been blown apart. It had been in one of the tents that Mr Weasley had borrowed for the Quidditich world cup at the end of his third year. He had been dreaming about playing Quidditch for England in the future and then the death eaters had attacked. Harry thought that it may have been that night, that all of these foreign feelings and the voices had come from. Though he couldn't really remember living without them. They kept him company through the lonely weeks he had to spend at his aunt and uncles house. They motivated him, told him that he wasn't a freak that they cared about him. Of course locked in his room there was no one to see him talking to them and no one to hear his voice? His Uncle had after all sound proofed his room so that none of them had to hear his freakish pet. They didn't react well to being woken up in the night by hedwig. One of the only things that had stopped them from merely killing her had been his godfather's letter at the beginning of the holidays.

But here at Grimauld and at Hogwarts he couldn't talk freely to them without people noticing. So he had tried to ignore them for as long as possible, only making them grow louder and louder until he couldn't take it anymore or he only moved his lips when conversing. This, though better than the previous idea and being easier to hide than actually talking to them still drew small amounts of unwanted attention. Harry sighed pushing up the leg of his pyjama bottoms, until his thigh was exposed, pale as the moonlight. Lowering his hands to rest the knife on his leg, he pushed gently at first gaining courage as time passed as he tried harder leaving a deep red indentation in his leg. Losing his bravery he raised the knife and returned it to the box and began to roll down the leg of his pyjama bottoms. A knock on the door startled him and he kicked the box under the bed, before running to the door, picking up his wand on the way. Hurriedly he pushed the chest of drawers back to its rightful place stirring up a great deal of dust before retuning to the door and removing the locking charm. Opening it cautiously he caught sight of the retreating back of his God father walking down the corridor.

"Sirius!" he shouted attempting to catch up with him, before he got to the stairs. The closer he got the more depressed his godfather looked, his hair hung limply around his face and his strong shoulders were sagged with a look of defeat. At the sound of his voice Sirius immeadiatly whilrled round to face him, quickly pasting a happy smile onto his face that didn't quite reach the stormy grey eyes. That's right Harry signhed mentally we're all telling lies to one another.

"Harry," His godfather stated in suprise, obviously not expecting him to emerge from his bedroom, or his lair as every one was now calling it t. It was true, that he seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time in there reading, listening to music, anything really to quieten the voices all around him. Indulging himself here and there with a few minutes of conversation with Finrod or discussing the fall of the Noldor with Manwe and how it could have been prevented. Harry admitted to himself, he couldn't recall at the exact moment how long it had been since he had left the room for anything but to use the bathroom or to sneak foods from the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning. "we need to talk you and me and Remus." His godfathers face had sobered and for a few seconds Harry panicked. They couldn't know, nor could they? Someone was spying on him; he knew it, but how. In the panicked state he was in Harry didn't catch the worried look that Sirius gave him at the increased rate of his breathing. Cautiously the older man leaned forward, brushing a lock of hair away from his face before heading down the rickety stairs. Stopping at the first step he turned back and beckoned Harry to follow him with a long finger, in way that showed that this wasn't a request. It was an order.

an/ I hoped that you enjoyed the story so far and i would feel flattered if you were to drop me a review on your way out. Thanks!

...raven...


	2. Chapter 2 Confrontation

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Silmarillion

**An: I'd like to thank everyone that has reviewed the last chapter, and those that have added it to story alert. That means alot to me (haha cliche response i know) As a thank you present i give you chapter two. **

Chapter two

All the staircases in Grimauld place were long, winding and very narrow, not allowing two people to pass one another very comfortably. This sort of situation often lead to a lot of jostling last thing on a night and first thing on a morning with people going up and down the stairs to retrieve, that extra warm jumper that Mrs Weasley had knitted them or their potion textbook. For all that it was August, and the height of summer, the inside of the house that Sirius had inherited carried an unearthly chill about it, defying all attempts to warm it up. Those people tasked with the unenviable job of trying to make the house habitable for the order to use themselves, were literally at war with the house. Furniture that had been fixed had suddenly broken mysteriously, things went missing and the odd accident occurred. Like when Ron had nearly bed strangled by a set of purple cursed robes two days ago. The most annoying thing to his godfather was that he couldn't remove the portrait of his mother from the downstairs hallway. With each passing day he seemed to grow more and more likely to carry his threat of a week earlier, to blow up the wall on which she was mounted. Remus had laughed when this had been declared on a Monday morning a week ago when Walburga Black had been disturbed five times before breakfast. Mrs Weasley hadn't been impressed by what she saw as impulsive rash behaviour that was a bad example to the children. She had yet to realise that none of the 'children' sat at the table could really be counted as children anymore, not even Ginny. Despite being fourteen, she had lived through something that most adults would have found impossible. There was certainly no-one he knew that had survived being possessed by Voldermort and Ron and Hermione had been with him through almost all his misadventures.

Following Sirius down the stairs, through the dark halls lit only by the pale light cast by gas lamps, mounted upon the walls, was daunting. He did not want to say anything to disturb the silence, but then again for him, it wasn't silent, nor was he alone in what felt like the walk to his death. Beside him tall and mighty, wearing fine mail and armour, stood a common intrusion into his world. Finrod looked Harry deep in the eyes before smiling reassuringly and beckoning him on, into the kitchen. Sitting at the long kitchen table was Remus, his heavily scarred hands holding a piece of parchment and his expression stony. The letters corresponding envelope was laid on the long narrow kitchen table. Seeing his mentor's expression Harry paled and began to shake slightly, but once again Finrod beckoned him forward, taking a seat across from Remus.

"Harry, you know that they would not hurt you, and that they do not know about us." Finrod stated, taking out his sword from its scabbard and beginning to sharpen it with a stone. Harry nodded slightly calming down. Sirius moved to sit next to the lycanthrope, looking at him with a face that gave none of his feelings away and pointing to the seat across the table. The scruffy teenager moved across the room slowly, trying to delay the inevitable, but eventually he found himself in the straight backed, uncomfortable chair. Unconsciously lowering his head to evade the stares of the two adults that he cared about in the world Harry didn't see the annoyed, yet worried looks that they had given him.

"Harry, I think that you know why we are here." Remus stated quietly, leaning back in his chair and placing the well read letter back into its envelope, before placing it onto the table. The green eyed teen found himself looking up for a moment, into his mentor's eyes, before turning his gaze downwards again. Finding himself beginning to panic, he started to pat his leg with his right hand, slowly at first, but as the silence grew longer, the speed increased. "Your end of year report came by owl today. All of your teachers seem to be very worried about you, and your grades have slipped considerably. Have you actually been trying?" Remus accused, his body tensing and his eyes flashing amber momentarily, before returning to their normal non-descript brown.

"What's been going on? You know you can tell us don't you?" Sirius asked with a considerable amount of hurt in his voice. Okay they were going to play good cop bad cop today Harry winced, as he felt tears rising. He had tried, he had done his best. It was just that he found it very hard to concentrate with a group of elves rampaging through his life at generally inappropriate times. That and the fact that even when they weren't around thinking tended to be like wading through treacle and no-one ever gave him the time to figure things out on his own. There was of course no way that he would ever tell them this, everyone already thought that he was a weirdo. After all he could speak parsel tongue and had survived Voldermort trying to kill him multiple times already.

"You wouldn't understand!" He whispered, standing up slowly from his seat. It took all his effort not to run from the room.

2


	3. Chapter 3 Remus and Sirius

**An: Yeah i know that i said that i wouldn't update this story very often, but the plot bunny seems to have bitten really hard. Thanks for all the favourites, reviews and story alerts. **

Chapter 3

Everyone was beginning to get very worried about Harry. Even Ron Weasley had noticed that there was something wrong with him and if Ron could see it, the problem was glaringly obvious. At the start of his stay at Grimauld Sirius had passed off his behaviour as typical teenage stroppiness. Now, he didn't know something about it rubbed him the wrong way. Those close to Harry knew that he could brood but this was a whole knew level that frankly had begun to scare them. The only times in which he was seen were late on a night when he came down to stock up on food. Molly had taken to leaving him his dinner on the side with a heating charm on it.

The happy, somewhat shy boy that they all knew had retreated into the shell he now lived in was a mockery of what he had once been. Molly had been all for marching up the stairs and dragging him out of his bedroom, forcing him to face his life. It was needless to say that Sirius and Remus had been furiously against this plan of action. Both men had suffered considerably in their lives and knew that something like this was bound to happen eventually. Harry was very good at keeping his feelings inside, bottling them up until he couldn't hold it in anymore and it exploded out of him. Whatever this problem was, it was big, and he hadn't even talked to Ron and Hermione about it. Throughout the last year he had cut out his friends from his life one by one until there were only his two closest friends left. Currently he appeared to be cutting even them out, locking himself in his room and refusing to come out for anyone. It killed Sirius little by little to see the smile that Harry had been showing everyone. The smile that had never reached his eyes. Looking back Sirius couldn't even remember the last time that his godson had showed anyone any real emotion. He had taken to walking early to keep an eye on Harry, but whenever they passed in the corridors or staircases, Harry had seemed to be in another world and had walked right past him.

To say that he was worried was an understatement. This worry had deepened with the arrival of Harry's end of year report. It hadn't read well. All of his grades were slipping and the essays that he had given in had mostly been late, with pieces missing and the content had been all over the place i.e. hard to understand. That wasn't like Harry at all. Sure he wasn't as academically minded as Hermione. But he cared about his future and he knew that his schoolwork was important. Remus had started to think that maybe the Dursleys had been doing more than neglecting him this summer. Or that maybe Harry was better at hiding things than they had previously thought. The dog animagus growled low in his throat.

It had taken half an hour for Remus to convince his lover that he needed to confront Harry about his behaviour and his report scores. Sirius still thought that it was a bad idea. Still he hoped that Harry would still be awake and that he would at least give him a chance. Reaching the door to his godson's room he began to feel nervous, he carefully knocked on the door after sensing the impressive wards that had been created and placed on the door. After waiting for a couple of minutes he turned away from the door and set of back towards the kitchen.

Before he could reach the stairs Harry had ran out of his room calling his name, whilst running along the corridor. Turning to take a good look at his best friend's son he was shocked to see how terrible he looked. Skinny arms and legs could be seen despite his baggy pyjamas and dark circles lay under his eyes. It was obvious that he hadn't been sleeping properly or even not at all. The sheer look of bone tiredness that seeped from him was reminiscent of Remus after a full moon. What skin that Sirius could see that his skin was pale due to the low amount of sunlight that he was getting. The skinniness that was not only genetic (his father had always been skinny) but seemed to be aggravated by his stay at the Dursleys.

The meeting that had taken place between them all had given no-one any more information than they had already had before. It seemed that Harry was not able to talk to them for whatever reason he had. Leaving his mentors with even deeper worries than previously. Gently he placed his head on the table in defeat. He jumped slightly as he felt the hands of his lover rubbing up and down his back, trying to bring some kind of comfort to him. Turning around in his seat, he held out his arms for a hug. Understanding his need for closeness and comfort Remus took him into his arms and held on tightly. The long friendship that they had shared as well as their relationship gave them a good insight into each others lives and thoughts. This had given him the important knowledge that Sirius had never liked being out of control and he hated not having the full picture. Earlier events had showed that Harry wasn't going to give it to them. Not yet anyway.

**An: Thanks for reading please drop a review. **


	4. Chapter 4 Cutting

**AN: Hi guys, i know that it's been a while since i last updated. The next few chapters have been quite hard for me to write, mostly as they're quite personal, but also because i have to be in the right mood to write them. Once again i would like to thank everyone that has supported me and the story by adding it to thier favourites, story alert and reviewing. It means alot to me. More than you could possibly know really. Anyway enough of my sentimental rambling and on with the new chapter.**

Chapter 4

Cutting 

After putting on a calm face as he left the kitchen, Harry started to feel his anxiety take over. A big black cloud that tightened around his chest, forcing his heart to beat faster and his breath to become labored. At this rising feeling of absolute panic he ran up the stairs, back to the safety of his bedroom. His haven, nothing could enter here without his permission. Nothing! Finrod had followed him up the stairs, his chain mail clinking softly as he took wide steps to keep up with his frenzied rush, whispering phrases meant to calm him down. Reaching his room, he slammed the door shut, before pushing the chest of drawers back in front of it. Even in the few seconds that he had been in it the small quite dingy room was already starting to provide him with a small sense of comfort. The effort of heaving the heavy wooden construction from its original space had left him panting slightly.

Before him Finrod gradually began to fade out of existence, with a sad smile upon his glowing face. The loss of his friend and protector left Harry feeling lost and vulnerable. Once again, he reached below his bed to draw out the box beneath it. Just as the last time that he had gone through these motions a sense of calmness had overcome him. The continuous buzzing around him grew quieter, and then slowly disappeared. Opening it slowly, cautiously as if something precious and delicate lay within its confines, he exposed the contents. Little by little he drew out the knife that he had used in the effort prior to this one. He hiked up his trouser bottoms until his thigh was visible. Harry drew a deep breath clutching the handle tighter within his small hands before drawing the knife across his skin. Relief, glorious relief and quiet. The pale skinned seeker dropped the knife in shock as his blood beaded on the surface of his skin. Reaching back into the box he pulled out a wad of tissue pressing it into the injury with a smile upon his face. He could cope, yes he could. It didn't matter that Remus and Sirius had noticed that something was wrong they had no idea what it was. He could cope on his own. After all hadn't he gotten through the past year on his own hadn't he.

The bleeding had stopped, and so he carefully pulled off the tissue so as not to take of the scab that had started to form. Harry scrunched it up into a ball and threw the bloodied tissue into the bin beside his desk. The knife was retrieved from the floor and wiped before being returned to its home. Roughly the battered box was pushed back under the bed after it had had once again been closed.

The sky outside his window had started to pale with the promise of the morning and another painfully hot summer day. Suddenly tired Harry pulled down his pants leg and surrendered to the tantalizing world of sleep but even there he was not alone. Not any more.

**An: I'm sorry that this isnt anywhere near as long as the other chapters, but the next looks like it's going to make up for this ones shortness. From now on things become darker and more scary for poor Harry. **

**Any ideas what mental health illness Harry has? It's probably painfully obvious, but all the same... i'd like to know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5 Alistair

**A/N: Sorry for the wait guys and i know that i promised that this chapter would be longer, but the subject of it is something that i find very hard to talk about. That and i've had a beyond stressfull few days recently. Ah well... i wrote this just for you, when i should have been doing coursework. I hope you like the new chapter. **

Chapter 5 Alistair

Two hours had passed since he had finally found some sleep, but a creeping feeling of dread had crept over him slowly. Eventually he could no longer stay lying down. His heart had begun to pound erratically in his chest, contributing a sense of dizziness and acute awareness to his fear. It was this combination of emotions that continuously kept him alive in his confrontations with Voldermort. It was a feeling not unlike the last time he had faced his arch nemesis. Panting slightly he groped behind him in an attempt to find his wand, but it must have fell off the bed during the time that he had been asleep. Eventually he gave up his search and walked over to his bedroom door, flicking the switch that was placed near to it. The light making him blink because of its brightness. Looking up towards his ceiling he caught sight of a mass of black wires that sparked like electricity as it buzzed around the room. A feeling of great malevolence surrounded it, giving him the shudders. Spotting his wand, he made a dive for it, but so did the strange vision. He muffled a scream as it wrapped itself around him, clouding his vision. A deep sinister voice echoed from all round him telling him all the things that he had feared to be true telling him things that would ever scar him.

His heart felt like it was beating within his skull and his chest had begun to tighten. It felt as if hi Cousin Dudley was sat upon his chest and considering that he weighed approximately the same amount as a baby whale that was saying something. Harry struggled to breathe, the breaths that he was taking came in shallow wheezes and his stomach felt as if someone was using it to wash up in.

Panicking further he reached for the iPod that Hermione had bought and charmed for him for his birthday this year. He was eternally grateful for it, because it had become a lifeline that helped him to get through the day. When the voices became too loud he could escape into the world that his music created. This was a world where he could let out his fear, anger and sadness, where he could be Harry and not The-Boy-Who-Lived. It was one of his guilty pleasures along with a good thick fantasy novel. In the past year he had gotten through an amazing number of books, Hermione would be proud of him. The entire Redwall series had fallen to his sudden need to read, Lord of the Rings, the Silmarillion, the Hobbit and so many more. When he had been staying at Private drive over the summer he had exhausted the local library's selection of books that interested him and had started reading books, that when attempting to read them, made him feel as if he was banging his head against a brick wall. Mansfield Park it seemed would remain the bane of his life for quite a long time; the damn book was even more annoying than Voldermort. But one day he would conquer it he knew it, till then he would expand the genres that he had interests in. The music and the reading helped him to wage a two pronged attack on the voices that were slowly taking over his life. The music almost always helped him to drown out the sound and the books provided a visual distraction from Finrod, Glorfindel and Arafinwe.

Today it wasn't helping in the slightest with this new problem that he had for some unknown reason named Alistair. The creature hadn't spoken a word so far as he could tell, but it exuded dark feelings and he knew that its very presence in the room was bad.

**A/n: Soon you'll be seeing some semblance of a plot :D. Thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed reading it! Please leave a review on the way out :)**


	6. Chapter 6 The letter

A/N: Hi once again. I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed favourited etc. I now have 6 reviewes. :D Here's the next chapter for WITD. 

Chapter 6 the letter

The next week found Harry returning to his self harming when ever he found things were becoming too vivid for him to cope with. Quickly adding more and more lines to his leg before moving to his arms because that hurt more and therefore brought him more relief. Logic had been thrown out of the window sometime ago and his mind had turned into a convoluted mess of twisting thoughts and shapes. He didn't care anymore, at least that was what he told himself but to be truthfully honest, he cared too much. The radio buzz was becoming louder and louder and now Finrod was almost always accompanied with his father Arafinwe. On particularly bad days Glorfindel and Manwe would turn up for a couple of hours only to return when he was close to finding sleep. It was starting to feel as if he was riding on a rollercoaster towards something terrible and there was no way for him to stop the ride or for him to get off. To be frank it was terrifying, and he was getting to his last nerve. It felt as though he was going to do something both desperate and stupid. The situation wasn't helped in the slightest by the random thoughts that strolled through his head at random. He would be using a knife to cut some bread and he would randomly start thinking of slitting his wrists with it or stabbing himself in the stomach with it. He couldn't even look at his potion ingredients or potion book anymore without fantasising about making poisons to use on himself. Harry was more worried about the way he could think about suicide in such a blasé way, as if… well as if he was thinking about buying some potatoes.

One night Harry decided that he had, had enough of hiding his problems away from everyone that he loved. The burden that he had been bearing in silence was beginning to pull him down and he didn't know if he could bear it alone anymore. Alistair's arrival into his life had terrified him much more than he was willing to let on, even to himself. This new found courage burned bright in his heart and in slight horror of the thought that it could fade at any moment. The desperation that had come along with it had pushed his mental awareness of everything around him into the most lucid state that he had felt in a long time.

This new found mental state found him sat in the house's library at four in the afternoon with a quill and several sheets of parchment trying to put into words how he felt to give to the two people in world that he trusted the most. It took eight hours of hard toil and several crumpled pieces of parchment that he was going to burn so that only one document existed of his issues. Now all he needed was to find even more courage to actually give it to Sirius and Remus. Harry was glad that he had written out what he wanted to say because it meant that he didn't actually mean that he had to speak. If he had, had to… well he didn't particularly want to think about it.

At this time of night everyone else but his godfather and his partner were in bed. He knew that they were worried about him and so they had adjusted their time to fit around hid erratic sleeping patterns and wanderings. It meant the world to him, that they cared enough about him to follow his weird life and to sacrifice their time for each other. It was a feeling that he hadn't really felt very much in his life. Sirius and Remus, though they couldn't really replace his biological parents he had started to think of them like parental figures. People who would always be there for him, put him first, who he could trust to catch him when he fell.

Harry stole down the stairs attempting to keep as quiet as possible so that, he didn't wake anything, or anyone up. It really wouldn't do to fall or trip and wake Walburga Black. In the living room, or sitting room as it used to be known as, when the house had been filled with dark wizards, Sirius and Remus were playing Wizarding Chess on one of the small glass tables. Harry coughed and placed the letter on the table before bolting out of the door without so much as a glance backwards.

A/N: Thanks for reading Whispers In The Dark. I hope to see you again.

...raven...


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